You have not known what you are.
You have slumbered upon yourself all your life.
Your eyes have been as much as closed most of the time.
What you have done is already in mockeries.

The mockeries are not you.
Underneath them
And within them,
I see you lurk...

-Walt Whitman



SO THIS is what it feels like then? To be lost at sea and be found, anchored at some place strange, by a lighthouse. To finally give in to the current and be swept away, to this place of still waters. And you creating ripples, everywhere - soft rain disturbing the surface, ever so gently, like an autumn leaf falling slowly, lilting silently unto earth, unto me.

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